


Clover Branwen

by dahkani



Category: RWBY
Genre: Clover loves his goth twink, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Past Snowbird if you squint, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahkani/pseuds/dahkani
Summary: Clover Ebi wants to ask Qrow Branwen to marry him. Set in the not-very-clear future in a post-Salem "life is good" world because holy fucking shit let them be happy please dear God. Chapter 2 (and potentially a Chapter 3) coming!Inspired by a prompt from Elementale!
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 39
Kudos: 257





	1. Te Amo Y Más

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elementale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elementale/gifts).



> \-- ♣ i like shiny things,  
> but i'd marry you with paper rings

Clearly some of Qrow’s escapist habits had rubbed off on Clover. He sat by a window in what was once foreign territory, basking in the warmth of a golden sun. So unlike the subdued glow of Atlas; Patch was an unapologetic beauty, bursting and overflowing in the limited bounty of summer. Atlas, on the other hand, felt reserved; the more you looked, the more it grew, like the tides of the sea bending to the will of the moon, revealing its pearls. 

He liked both, and Qrow certainly preferred places like this. Said they reminded him of family. Well, that’s why Clover was here, at least. Family.

“Sorry for the wait,” chuckled Taiyang; carrying in his careful arms a tray stacked with toast and tea. He placed it on the table as he took up his spot opposite Clover and gestured towards the food he had so lovingly prepared. “But feel free to dig in.”

Clover snorted in fond amusement that fell through the cracks of his lips. What a kind soul. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Taiyang said, raising a mug to his own lips. “You’re pretty much family now. How long has it been?”

“Four years.” At least, officially. They’d waited a while to actually go through with it. Clover was made of memories, and those years with Qrow had been highlights of his life, playing them over and over in his head like the notes of a melody to a song so sweet he’d known it by heart all his life. Clover ran the golden ring he’d picked out across his fingertips, like his fingers were atop the keys of a piano, playing that very melody. Each note a memory. How a wave of recklessness fueled by love had spurred their first kiss. 

Taiyang smiled at that, and paused, as though giving Clover time to think. The look on his face said he’d felt the same way. The way he glanced at the feather sticking out of his bandana confirmed it. Black as night. “Heh. It hits you out of nowhere, doesn’t it?” 

“Something like that, yeah,” Clover muttered. 

“So, what can I do for you? I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. You’re normally way more talkative,” Tai said, in a tone so light it was almost teasing. Clover had to admit it was true. But rather than say it aloud, Clover instead brought his hands up from underneath the table - holding out the ring he had been idly playing with to Taiyang. Intricately carved with the floral pattern found on Qrow’s favourite shirt, it was the fanciest thing he could get that Qrow wouldn’t begrudge him for spending too much money on. 

Taiyang’s face fell flat - then his lips curled up in a cat-like grin. Then it deepened, and suddenly he was as bright and overwhelming as the bristling warm weather of Patch. “You’re gonna propose?!” Taiyang yelled, and much like both of his daughters was incapable of holding in his excitement. He sat straight up in his chair, clutching his cup so tightly Clover feared it would break. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck it didn’t. “That’s amazing!”

Clover glanced sheepishly at the ground. “Yeah, I sure hope so.”

That show of doubt didn’t slip by Taiyang. His eyes narrowed in concern, eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair, a hand on Clover’s own for comfort. “What’s wrong?”

Clover shook his head. “It’s just a big step. And, you know, it can be hard for huntsman to settle down. I’m not sure if it’s what he wants. It’s what I want, but things are going so well right now, and I don’t want to mess that up.”

Taiyang granted him a nod of understanding and sympathy, tightening his grip on Clover’s hand. “Love is scary. Of course it is. But if that’s how you feel, you’ve gotta act on it. You two have been through so much together - there’s no way this is what breaks you apart. What Salem couldn’t do, you wanting to marry will?” Taiyang snorted, and Clover had to admit, it made him laugh too. 

“Besides, marrying doesn’t mean settling down. You think you can’t continue being a huntsman, bettering the world, just because you’ve got a ring on your finger? It’s a big step, but it doesn’t have to change everything. You’ll get through it.”

That brought a small, warm smile to Clover’s face. Taiyang always knew what to say; the two knew Qrow as well as each other, but without the bias of love, Taiyang could offer a voice of reason Clover sometimes lost when his feelings got in the way. 

“Thanks, Tai,” Clover said, in a voice so relieved it was as if all the burdens of the world had left him. 

“How about we celebrate, eh?” Taiyang asked, heading into the kitchen. At almost blinding speed he returned, with two new glasses and a bottle of champagne that walked the perfect line between upper-class and accessible. Clover was too relieved to fight, and the way Taiyang shared his joy was infectious. 

Two glasses were poured, and Taiyang raised his high with pride. “To Clover, the next Mr. Branwen!” Their glasses clinked, and they drank with relish. Taiyang dropped his glass first and wiped his mouth, before looking straight at Clover with a devilish glint in his eye. Clover recognized it, of course. It was the type of grin he shared with Yang. When the punch line of a prank was coming. “He never shuts up about it, you know. He asks me all the time if he’s done anything wrong or why you haven’t popped the question yet. So you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

And at that, Clover spat out his drink.

\-- ♣ --  
“Clover. A surprise, but a welcome one. How have you been?” Winter Schnee asked, gesturing him inwards. Clover stepped in to her office, closing the door carefully behind him. It was always a fine line to walk with Winter; her keen eye, perfectionist nature, and outspoken attitude made her the type of person to chew you out for even the slightest perceived misstep. 

Yet over time her thorny demeanor had broken up just a little, and where once was distant professionalism now betrayed a careful warmth. The pair had bonded over many experiences, and it’s hard to hate someone you owe your life to.

“Winter. A pleasure to see you looking well,” Clover replied, walking stiffly to the seat in front of her desk. He sat down, back straight, and looked her directly in the eye with as impassive a stare he could muster. He failed, of course, and a smirk cropped up from the corner of his mouth and spread over his face like a disease. 

“Oh? What’s so funny?” Winter asked, raising an eyebrow in detached interest. She had both her hands clasped on the mahogany table she worked at, files and papers neatly arranged even as she worked. For once, a flair of personal touch: a picture of herself and Weiss Schnee, taken the day Weiss finally became the heiress she had dreamt of becoming. Clover had hugged her later that night as she cried, not of sadness, but of burning pride for her little sister coming so far.

“Damn you, Winter,” Clover said between his laughs. “Always so much better at this than I am.” They’d long since outgrown a purely professional relationship. And ever since tensions in Remnant had gradually fallen and the fate of all mankind no longer rested in the balance… they all found themselves conducting their lives with a bit less straight-faced seriousness. Yet nobody was better at it than Winter, and even in the sole company of only one of her closest friends, she could keep the act going and pretend to hate him.

“Indeed I am,” Winter replied, smiling herself now. “But it is nice to see you again, even if so soon. You’ve barely begun your requested leave. Did you forget to attend to something, or has something happened?”

Clover pondered it for a moment. “Nothing like that. I wanted to talk to you about something and get some advice.”

Winter didn’t look convinced, but sighed and relaxed her posture. She rested a hand on the arm of her chair, and then her head atop it, and watched him carefully. “Very well, Clover. You can have ten minutes of my limited time.”

“Many thanks, your majesty,” Clover teased, and it earned him a snort of amusement. Winter truly had opened up a bit more around him. “It’s about my relationship with Qrow.”

Winter’s eyes flashed with alarm at that. Qrow and Winter had always had a turbulent relationship; she’d threatened him many times with a fate worse than death if he hurt Clover, and countless more times for reasons nobody could recount. 

“What has he done?” Winter asked, tightening her grip on the arm of the chair. So protective of the few friends she trusted enough to open up around. Clover couldn’t help but find her fascinating. 

“Nothing, nothing. Things are going great,” Clover reassured, reaching into his pocket to dig out the ring. He placed it delicately on the table and slid it in front of her, and she picked it up and looked at it with grace and poise. 

“You’re… giving me a ring?” Winter asked, stunned. She went to put it on her finger, and Clover had to reach forward amidst a fit of laughter to stop her. Her cheeks went red in embarrassment. “What? What did I do?”

“I’m afraid it’s not for you, but I might just get you one if you want. Won’t be as special as that, though. It’s for Qrow.” He explained, raising an eyebrow suggestively. And her cheeks slowly paled as she realized her mistake, and her eyes widened just a bit, and she stared at him, then the ring, and back to Clover again. 

“You’re proposing.” 

“Now you’re getting it,” Clover said, beaming. After his chat with Taiyang a few days ago, he’d long since gotten over his fear. He was almost unable to sit still in his chair and he could feel Winter’s judgemental gaze on him. Though when he raised his eyes to look at her again, he realized there was no judgement there; only surprise mixed with a slight shot of joy. 

“Well, this is wonderful, Clover. I’m happy you saw me fit to tell beforehand. Are you sure he’ll accept?” Clover nodded in response. “Then I hope it goes well and I’ll be awaiting my invitation to your wedding.” 

“Thanks, Winter.” Clover said, and the two sat in silence for a moment. Winter’s gaze never left Clover, lost in thought. At last she appeared to snap back to reality. When she spoke, it was devoid of her commanding tone. It was just… Winter.

“It never crossed my mind you and Qrow would get this far. When General Ironwood told me of his plans to pair you and him together, I agreed it would be best for tactical reasons, and I believed if anyone could keep that bastard in check, it would be you.” Winter confessed, and she let out a deep breath. The hardness in her eyes vanished, as did the vice-like grip of her fingers on the arm of her chair. She didn’t move to fix the strand of hair that fell over the piercing glow of her eyes.

Clover nodded sagely at that. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way, but it was welcome; Winter’s disapproval of Qrow had always been a point of tension. He looked warmly at her, urging her on. 

“You and Qrow are different in a good way. You compliment each other. Like how the moon shines in the light of the sun. Qrow and I were nothing like that. We were fire and ice. We were from different worlds.” To her credit, she never shied away from speaking her mind. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t as… supportive of your relationship as I should have been. I’m glad you’re giving me that chance now.” 

Clover begrudged her nothing. In fact, perhaps it was because of Qrow’s influence on him. A far younger Clover would become bewitched by any authority near him. The disapproval of someone he valued so much would have crushed him. But Qrow had taught him the importance of standing your own ground for your own sake - the importance of your own happiness. And Clover’s happiest memories were coloured red, like his cape as he followed Qrow anywhere; they sounded like his sharp-tongued but well meaning jokes; they felt like the feeling of thin black hair in his hand, or Qrow’s lips against his skin. 

“Well, here’s a chance to make it up to me,” Clover chuckled; his jovial tone making it clear she had nothing to prove really. “If you were going to propose to somebody, where would you do it?”

Winter looked taken aback by the question. “You’re asking me of all people this?” She gave him a scathing look of disbelief, and if Clover didn’t know any better, he’d have laughed at how stunned she looked.

“Why not? You’ve got great advice,” Clover explained, eyes as innocent as he could make them, tone warm and unassuming. Winter’s eyes fell as she mulled it over, before she fell back in her chair and let out a deep breath. 

“I suppose I’d do it somewhere that was important to me and whoever I was proposing to. Somewhere I had fond memories of.”

Clover nodded, and tried his best to fight back the grin pulling at the lines of his cheeks. For her sharp mind, she hadn’t realized what he was really doing. Clover already knew where he wanted to propose.

But he knew his plan had hit its mark when he stood to leave, thanking Winter for her time, and out of the corner of his eye saw Winter, glancing at her ring finger contemplatively, as though considering something she’d never thought of before.

\-- ♣ -- 

“Does that mean I should call you uncle Clover?” Ruby giggled, her eyes like the moon twinkling with child-like wonder. She’d never lost that spark, even now, and Clover remembered how she had shaken like petals lost in the wind in the past. Yet every time, she was scared a little less, and stood up a little prouder. He saw in her fighting style so many movements unique to her; and his trained eye could see every habit she’d yet to break that came from Qrow. How could he not love her like his own niece, the lifeline Qrow had clung to so many times before? The one that had kept him going and given him strength to fight. 

In some ways, Ruby was to thank for Clover even meeting Qrow. May it be keeping him from straying too far before they met, or how the two had a bond stronger than anything Clover had seen before. In his team, they had cooperation and planned attacks. But Qrow and Ruby, and all of her teammates and friends, had something different. The two could never tell you what they planned to do, or what they would do. They simply worked off instinct and trust and their mutual desire to protect each other and do the right thing.

Ruby reminded him of the first time Clover realized he truly loved Qrow like no other. It had been a dangerous mission, worse than most. It was the fire he saw in his eyes; the proof of life in a man that could seem so defeated. It was the fury that burned in them and how he unashamedly showed his fear that he could lose his niece. It was his willingness to lay his life down for her in the blink of an eye. 

Living in a city as lonely as Atlas, he ended up drawn to anyone who could feel so deeply and use it as their strength rather than cutting it off as a weakness.

“Aren’t you a little old to be calling me that?” Clover replied, and Ruby just punched him on the shoulder. He pretended to be hurt. 

“I’m happy for you. And I’m glad you make uncle Qrow so happy. Keep him right for me?”

“Isn’t that your job?” Clover joked, and Ruby punched him again, this time earning a hiss of pain from Clover. “You’ve been hanging out with Yang too much.” This time, they both laughed, and Clover found himself with a sense of belonging he’d never had before. In a way that felt deeper than just his love for Qrow. It had found him a family much different from his old. Full of love, and warmth, and acceptance. And it was all he could ever want to be a part of it.

“You took over for me the second you met him,” Ruby challenged, and Clover had nothing to say to that. It was the truth, after all. “And that’s a good thing.”

Now that caught Clover’s attention. He turned to look at her, and her eyes widened as she realized the slightly incriminating nature of her words. He could practically hear her take them back and start over. 

“What I mean is… I couldn’t do it forever. And he always worried I only said it because I was family and had to. You were someone he didn’t know. You were someone that loved him, and he couldn’t find an excuse to pin it on. He finally had to just accept he was the reason.” Ruby shrugged, and continued looking right ahead. Clover would have been shocked at her disturbing moments of shocking insight, but he’d long since grown accustomed to it. She was often the most mature around, and knew people better than they knew themselves. He didn’t let her youth deceive him. “You were good for him.”

“He’s good for me too.”

“I know.” She placed her hand over his in a show of sympathy. It reminded Clover so much of her father. She gazed up at him with that idealistic and inspiring look in her eyes and he felt at peace. 

“I’ll keep being good for him, Ruby.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”


	2. De Lo Que Puedes Imaginar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's what you've been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> te amo y más / de lo que puedes imaginar / te amo además / como nunca nadie jamas lo hará

“For the hundredth time, Clover, you look fine,” Marrow groaned, holding his head in his hands. “Honestly, what’s gotten into you? You weren’t even this stressed out on your first date.”

Clover was pacing back and forth in his hotel room, eyes flickering towards the scroll lying on his desk. Marrow watched him with a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes, but Clover didn’t have time to chew him out for how much he was clearly enjoying the torment of his leader. He needed tonight to be good. Better, even.

“This is a little more serious than a first date, Marrow,” Clover chided. Stopping in front of the mirror, he dusted off his shirt, contemplating whether he should do the top button or not. 

“I don’t know why you care so much,” Marrow confessed, throwing up his hands in a careless shrug. “I get why you want it to be nice, but he’d say yes even if you asked while in the mouth of a Nevermore.” 

Clover tutted at that, spinning on his heel. “You should never take someone’s love for granted, you know.” He knew that well. Love easily given was a love easily taken away. 

Marrow looked ready to argue with him on it, but his tail twitched and his finger dropped to his side. “Take a deep breath and relax. He’ll be calling you any minute,” Marrow reassured him, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “And he’ll probably trip the moment he looks at you.”

Now that made Clover chuckle, even if weakly. “Thank you, Marrow. For being here.”

“What else are friends for?” he replied. His eyebrows raised in surprise, and a coy smirk spread across his face. Tilting his head, he motioned at Clover’s scroll lighting up with a text from Qrow. “So maybe I was wrong. He didn’t call you, but he did text.”

Taking Marrow’s advice, Clover steadied himself with a deep breath, and found himself remembering his training. How strange of it all, to be aware of everything you need to do to calm down, but forget it all in the panic of the moment. He could handle any number of bad turns, Grimm attacks, or more. But this was what tripped him up worse than anything else? Well, it was something he had in common with Qrow, at least.

“He’s waiting outside,” Clover said in a voice noticeably more breathy than the cocky and calm demeanor he always tried to sell. But at least Marrow had the tact to not tease him for it tonight. 

“Good luck,” Marrow laughed. He couldn’t wait to tell the other Ace Ops how nervous their ‘fearless’ leader had gotten.

“When have I ever needed that?” Clover shot back, lip curled in a cocky smile, as if he was back to his old self. It was all the proof Marrow needed to know his leader was gonna be alright, and so he let him go without a second more spent in wait. Grabbing his jacket from the chair it was resting on, he left to meet his boyfriend.

Clover was almost skipping and tripping over himself in giddy excitement as he walked down the hallways of the nicest hotel he could find in Mantle. He opened the door, and spotted Qrow leaning against the wall in the hotel lobby, and Clover wished he could get down on one knee already. He looked as good as he always did; Clover found he liked Qrow best whenever he was wearing whatever he wanted. But he had to admit something of a bias towards the outfit he was wearing right now; if only because it would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. Tailored pants, a black shirt, dress shoes. He was everything good in the world and more.

“Aren’t you cold?” Clover asked, stopping beside him to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Qrow had long since grown used to Clover’s shameless approach to love, but still playfully pretended to bat him away. 

“Not at all,” Qrow responded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “So what’s the plan? You’ve really went all out today.” He gestured at the hotel behind him, but Clover took it all in stride. 

“Have you ever been to the markets this time of year?” Clover asked, eyes glistening with excitement and interest. 

Qrow scoffed. “Never even heard of ‘em.” 

Well, that wasn’t too surprising, Clover had to admit. “It’s a tradition of Mantle to host a variety of markets around this time of year to celebrate a type of… togetherness. People from all walks of life and cultures gather here and cook food from their hometowns, sell things, and remember that we’re stronger together,” Clover explained. “It’s kind of like the shopping and more casual version of the Vytal festival. But as time grew and Mantle had… more and more problems, they had to put it on hold. This is the first year it’s back.”

“The place we first met…” Qrow mused aloud, though if he suspected anything, his face didn’t show it. “Sounds good to me, Cloves.” 

Clover smiled like a love-sick puppy. He had been hanging on every word Qrow said, watching him so carefully as if he might break apart at any minute. Despite how much he wanted to, though, he couldn’t just look at Qrow for a night. So he reached out his hand, and Qrow took it in his.

The markets were easy enough to find. People flocked to them in droves and the energy bristling in the air was like electricity, jumping around from person to person at the slightest push. Even the calming glow of blue and orange lights seemed to beckon them forward, a mist of intoxicating happiness. There was a low din of conversation, punctuated by the sounds of instruments and singing. Nobody stood alone for long; there was always somebody to talk to. 

But Clover was never truly alone anyway. Not since he’d found Qrow. As they walked, bursts of colour ran across his face from the lights of the stalls around them. Clover watched carefully, noting every stall he raised his eyebrows in curiosity over, or smiled warmly at. The way he kept reaching up to fix his hair when the wind pushed a few strands out of place. The warmth of his red eyes where once there had been nothing, the sound of his laughter like the first breath of spring when he saw something that reminded him of Ruby. How the pale skin on his face glistened like the moon casting the light of the sun’s love. A bare face, shaved clean for their date - even though Clover had told him time and time again how he could care less if Qrow was at his worst; he cared only that he came at all. 

“Lead the way,” Clover said, and his voice was softer than he’d meant it to be. Tender, almost. Love was choking at his throat, demanding he say the words he wanted to rather than wait for a single second more. “Not now” he would tell his love, and his love could wait - because love was patience. Love was all the small things Qrow never even knew about himself. Love was all the ways Clover wanted to touch him, and kiss him, and all the things he wanted to tell him. 

Qrow had taken them to a stall selling waffles, and bought them a waffle to share without Clover even noticing. He’d been too caught up in his head again. The world just seemed to dim around him, like a camera changing focus, whenever he looked at Qrow. They continued to walk around the stalls, Qrow pointing out any number of things he liked, or things he found funny. It brought Clover back to the downcast man he’d fallen in love with, and how much happier he seemed these days. Free to speak his mind. Free to be whoever he wanted to be. Free at last like a bird soaring through the sky. 

Qrow snorted in laughter, and Clover chided himself for losing focus on their date. He looked to the side, trying to find what Qrow had found funny, but came up short. Turning to Qrow, he realized Qrow was looking at him. “What?” 

“You’ve got a little…” Qrow began, reaching to Clover’s face. He cupped his chin delicately, wiping a mixture of syrup and sugar off of the side of his mouth. “Not like you to be so careless.”

“If I’ve got you looking out for me, I can be as careless as I like,” Clover teased, and it made Qrow laugh. Pride burned in him like a candle then for making Qrow laugh, the heat of it making him puff out his chest a little bit more. There wasn’t another sound in the world that he’d rather hear.

“That’s my line,” Qrow shot back, and from the blush in his cheek, or the way his eyes danced away from him as if they were back at square one, Clover could tell Qrow felt the same way. They always did.

“Sorry,” Clover said, almost embarrassed. “I can’t stop thinking about all the times we were here. I guess it’s made me a little sentimental.” 

“Yeah,” Qrow agreed. His eyes narrowed in the way that told Clover to brace himself for a Branwen streak of rebellion. “Like the time you arrested me!”

Clover laughed at that, taking another bite out of the waffle they shared, pretending not to notice how Qrow just couldn’t take his eyes off him. Clover used to think love was a painful struggle or a never-ending chase. It was so much more. It was a shimmering mosaic of so many colours and broken pieces. It was a painting you never stopped working on, desperate to get it right. It was the feeling of knowing home. 

They were already losing track of time; the hands of the clock seemed to speed up whenever he looked away. Clover had lost track of Qrow in so many crowds, yet every time they fell back into place beside each other. It wasn’t hard. Clover could pinpoint his shade of black hair even against the backdrop of the night sky itself. He could hear the hitch of his laugh or his breath even when blind. He would know him even if the world went dark and he knew nothing else, just from the peace that came over him when Qrow was beside him. 

They played fair games, throwing rings to bottles or balls into holes, winning no prizes but the smile on both of their faces. They looked at paintings and clothes and jewelry by the dozens. When they rounded one fateful corner, they both lost themselves in the sweet sound of a piano. Blending into the crowd of couples with eyes locked firmly on each other, they danced together as they had countless times before, singing along to the words of any song they knew; and Clover always sang a little quieter, just so he could hear Qrow. 

Breaking out of the crowd now, careful to not put too much weight on their ailing feet, they walked side by side, shoulders pressing together. Somewhere along the line, Clover had given Qrow his jacket when a frightful blast of cold air left him shivering. Clover didn’t mind. Qrow looked better in it than he did. 

The markets were beginning to shut for the night. Hundreds of couples like them had already left, and they lazily strolled down the aisles, bathing in the lights. Clover didn’t know of any sight more beautiful than Qrow’s eyes when the light hit them. 

One last stall remained open; a jeweler. As they walked over, her eyes flashed in recognition, and Clover mouthed a simple apology when Qrow wasn’t looking. They’d gotten sidetracked. 

Reaching into his pocket as the jeweler took Qrow’s attention towards all of her shining wares, he took out a small red box, cradling it like it was the most important thing he would ever hold. It was a promise he was desperate not to break. It was a lifeline he clinged to. It was everything he’d ever needed and more.

“What do you think of these rings, Cloves? Think I need a new one?” Qrow asked, not looking behind him just yet. Clover thanked his lucky stars. He slowly dropped himself down on one knee, lips trembling in anticipation.

“Yeah,” Clover said simply, voice devoid of any cocky bravado or professional charm. It was trembling with emotion and fondness. It was begging him to stay. Clover popped the box open, revealing a golden ring, carved with the flower design of Qrow’s shirt that Clover had traced every time he felt lost. “What about these?” 

Confused, he turned around. His eyes widened in shock. His lips mouthed something, but his hand quickly covered it. Twinkling in the skies of his pupils were star-like tears, shooting down his cheeks. He was never not beautiful in Clover’s eyes.

“Ever since I met you, things have felt right. You make me happy in a way I didn’t know I could be. You make me want to do better, and be better. I’ve seen so many great things in my life, but nothing has been better than you.

“So please, Qrow Branwen. Will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?”

“Of course, Clover. Yes.”

Where once were tears, now waterfalls fell. The man once fated to a life devoid of joy couldn’t contain his happiness. The man who many once thought had everything found the greatest treasure of his life. A single tear ran down his cheek, too, but he didn’t need to cry anymore. Not as long as he had Qrow.

He rose, like the sun rising on a new day, and the ring slipped so easily onto Qrow’s finger. Clover wiped Qrow’s tears as he clutched his face, before their lips met as the sky touches the sea. They pulled each other closer, and the heat of city lights faded to nothing behind them.

It didn’t matter where they were.

They had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to sharrakor and deltastream21 from the fair game discord for beta reading this bcos i was nervous!  
> pls check out my tumblr at @dahkani, tumblr stole my header rights x  
> thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> check out my tumblr! i share fics, take requests, and all sorts of things. :)  
> this work was inspired by a prompt from my tumblr from elementale!
> 
> https://dahkani.tumblr.com/


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